Things pick up a bit this chapter. From this chapter on, there will be mentions of drug use, suicide, and self harm. This fanfic will not be M rated, because in my opinion, M should be reserved for graphic sexual content and stuff along those lines.

Shout out to Casual Nerd, and a random guest review.

We should also address one thing: Rape should not ever be taken lightly. Sometimes people will joke around and say 'if you don't do this, I'll kill you'. But when you add rape in the place of kill, it makes it ten times more serious, because it doesn't feel like a joke anymore. This story has mentions of rape, because that's what Finnick's job really is. But please, never, ever, ever joke about it.

To the person joking about it: You know who you are and what you did. THIS is what you did. And I must fight back.

"Finnick," I called to him as I saw him entering the elevator with the rest of the District 4 crew. He walked over to me. "When you left the elevator the other day, after the tribute parade..."

Finnick grinned. "With the sugar cube thing? I was so proud of myself."

"Seriously. What a power move." I congratulated. "I'm sorry that Aspen was being such a jerk. I really don't know what came over him. That's really unlike him."

"No it's... it's okay. I just really hate that the Districts see me this way."

"I know." There was a comfortable silence. "I hope Kai and Avonlea get good training scores. They seemed really nice."

Finnick smiled and nodded. "I hope Willa and Aspen do well, too. And tell them that I don't hold them accountable for the things he said."

"Of course,"

Finnick patted my head in a very Finnick-like manner, then jogged off to try and catch the next elevator while I glared at his back.

...

The training scores were very typical. The girls from Districts 1 and 2 both scored an eight. Augustus from District 1 scored a ten, Ansel from District 2 scored a nine.

Avonlea and Kai, Finnick's tributes, both received nines.

There weren't very many good scores from the outlying districts. There was a girl from District 11 who scored a ten, and a boy from District 10 who got an eight. There was a young boy from District six who scored an unusually low score of two.

Aspen received an eight, which was very, very good for District 12, not counting my score the previous year, which had also been an eight.

Willa got a seven, which wasn't surprising to me. We congratulated both, and I was very pleased with the outcome.

Aspen was strong and tough from growing up in the Seam. He was Ripper's son. Ripper was the woman who sold alcohol at the Hob. Willa was from the town. Her mother was the local seamstress. I had struggled coming up with a way for her knowledge of clothing would help her in the arena, but I didn't have to. She was fast. Incredibly fast.

I was so proud of my first pair of tributes when their scores came back so positive.

I hugged Willa. "I'm so proud of you," I said, then hugged Aspen. "Those are great scores."

"Thanks, Katniss," Willa said, smiling warmly at me.

Willa and Aspen did a great job at the interviews, too. They were both so naturally likeable, that Haymitch didn't have to work that hard at finding them an angle. Plus, Caesar knew how to get tributes sponsors, so he focussed heavily on their marriage, trying to get people to feel sorry for them.

...

They decided to alliance with each other, of course. The arena was a large volcano, with an ocean surrounding it on all sides.

My tributes didn't last very long, typical District 12 kids that they are.

Forget I ever said that. The Capitol will not change me. I am not a piece of their games, I am not a piece of their games, I am not a piece of their games.

Willa died in the bloodbath. Time and time again I told them to stay far away from the Cornucopia, but Willa was too cocky for her own good, which was surprising for her. She trusted far too much in her speed to save her, and she ended up with a knife in the back from Augustus.

I turned to where Finnick sat, tears in my eyes, but he wasn't there. I distantly remembered him saying he was going back to his floor to grab something, but that was close to a two hours ago, and he had yet to reappear. I had been watching the bloodbath and hadn't realized just how long he was gone.

Haymitch grabbed my hand. "It's okay, Sweetheart," he said gently. "The first year is always the hardest."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. "I knew she wouldn't last," I admitted, trying desperately to wipe away my tears. "I knew it. But I just... I just kept hoping she would."

Haymitch looked at me, his eyes full of understanding.

"I kept telling myself they had no chance, but I just kept hoping that maybe she would..."

"I know," Haymitch interrupted. "Believe me, I know. We all do."

I collapsed into his arms, sobbing. I felt someone's hand on my back.

"Come on, darling," I heard Cashmere say. "Let's go find Finnick."

I stood up from the couch and allowed her to lead me into the elevator. She pressed the number four button and sat down next to me.

"If Augustus makes it out of the arena, I'll kill him myself," I said bitterly, not caring that it was Cashmere's tribute I was talking about.

"You know," Cashmere said in response, after a few seconds of comfortable silence. "My first year mentoring was two years ago,"

"Finnick's year," I pointed out, wiping away the tears on my cheeks.

"Finnick killed both my tributes," she said.

"I thought DIstrict 1 and 4 were both in the Career pack," I asked.

"Oh, they were. Not at first, of course. Finnick was only fourteen, remember, so originally, the Careers refused him, even with his high score of ten. But he killed my girl in the bloodbath, using a spear, then the Careers let him in. Of course, that's when he got his trident from the sponsors, because of his looks. Did you know he killed the entire Career pack?"

I nodded. I remembered his games better than most, because my dad wasn't around to cover my eyes when things got too mature. Finnick killed twelve tributes. Half of the people in the arena were on his hands.

"When he killed my tributes, I said the same thing. I was going to kill him with my bare hands. Trident or not. But here we are now, and he's one of my best friends."

I nodded again, still trying to wipe away my tears. "So you're saying that I'm being a little hypocritical?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I'm glad you understand." The elevator beeped open. "Come on, darling. Let's go find our best friend."

Mags was sitting on the couch in the living room when we got there. The games were on the TV, but Finnick was nowhere to be found.

"Hi, Mags," Cashmere said, her hand in mine. "Have you seen Finnick?"

Mags smiled at us. "He just got back. He's in his room."

I briefly wondered if he was at one of his appointments, and felt a bit nauseous.

Cashmere sat with Mags and motioned me to go see him.

I knocked softly on the door. There was no response, so after a few seconds, I knocked again, louder. Finnick still didn't answer, so I opened the door slowly.

Finnick was passed out on the bed and I immediately felt sorry for trying to disturb him. Who was I to bother Finnick on his break? He was forced to do things I could never imagine. He was exhausted, and here I was deciding that I selfishly needed him to comfort me when Haymitch and Cashmere did just fine without his help.

I closed the door quietly. "He's sleeping," I reported.

Cashmere snorted, rather unlady-like.

"Go wake him up, then," Mags said, smiling warmly at me.

"O-oh. Okay." I walked back to his room and opened the door.

I stood a safe distance away. "Finnick," I whispered. Finnick's eyes snapped open and he sat up. He scanned the room. When his eyes landed on me, he relaxed.

"Hey Katniss." He noticed the dried tears on my face and opened his arms for me.

I ran right into them and held on tightly. "She died, Finnick. She died."

"I'm so, so sorry." He muttered, stroking my hair.

I gripped his arm and felt something plastic-y. There was a bandage on his arm, right below his elbow. It was covering his vein.

"What happened there?" I asked, pulling away.

"It doesn't matter, Katniss. I'm not worried about a small scratch on my arm. You're clearly upset."

I looked around the room, wondering if maybe he nicked it on something in here. My eyes landed on a plastic syringe, sitting on his dresser.

"What's that from, Finnick?" I asked, pointing to it.

Finnick shrugged, not meeting my eyes. I looked around for anything he could've shot into his systems. I walked over to his trash can, in between his bed and bathroom door. I moved a couple things from the top and a small bottle, close to the surface. I pulled it out and read the label.

"Morphling," I read out loud. I turned back to Finnick and saw him still staring at the ground. "Finnick," I walked over to him and sat down. "Finnick," I said again. "What is this?"

He still wouldn't look at me. "Katniss," He began, then stopped.

"Did you hurt yourself?" I asked, hoping desperately for the best. "So you needed pain meds?"

"No, Katniss."

"Have you been self medicating?" I asked, grabbing his hand.

"Katniss," He began again. "I am so sorry. I never meant for you to find out."

"Does anyone know?"

He shook his head.

"Then I'm glad I found out. This isn't healthy, Finnick."

"I know," he whispered. "I know that. God, I know that. I just..." He squeezed his eyes shut and I opened my arms for him. He slowly collapsed in them. We were both crying, now. "I want it to stop," He whispered so softly in my ear, that I could barely hear him. "Do you know what it's like to have your body violated again and again, every single day."

"I can only imagine," I whispered back. His grip tightened around my waist.

"I tried to call his bluff," Finnick said. "About six months ago. I didn't want anything like this to ever happen to you, so I was hoping he would... Anyway, I said no, I wouldn't do it anymore and he..."

"What did he do," I could feel my anger rising.

"He killed one of my brothers," He said, tears dripping from his face onto my shoulder, but I didn't mind.

"Which one?" I asked him. But I already knew the answer.

"Vann," He said.

"No," my voice was barely audible. Vann was Finnick's youngest brother. "He's four."

"Was," Finnick corrected. "He was , um, they blamed it on his cancer, but the doctors told us he wasn't terminal. He was going to get better. But I think President Snow got some sort of poison on these roses he sent us. We're lucky he was the only one to touch them before I got there to throw them away."

Vann was diagnosed with cancer when he was very young. I had met him during my Victory Tour, and I was shocked that anyone, even Snow, could take away such a precious life.

"Finnick, I know what it feels like to lose your family. My father died a little over two years ago, and the pain is still fresh. But you can't do this." I told him. He laid down on his side, facing me, and I did the same. Our hands still clasped tightly, our faces only inches apart, our tears making a large puddle on the sheets.

"Because it's selfish. It's not fair to my family," He filled in.

"Don't just do it for your family," I told him. "Do it for yourself. Don't just destroy your body. Push through the pain. It's just a message. Pain is just a message, and you can choose to ignore it."

He nodded, and pressed his lips to my forehead. "I'll try."

"That's all I want. Just try. But when you get the opportunity," I said, "Kill Snow."

Finnick knew exactly what I meant. He smiled softly. "I'll make sure to do that."

...

Aspen lasted one more day before he, too, met his demise. He was running from the Career tributes, but they caught him and, of course, killed him. I turned to Finnick, once again, with tears in my eyes. This time he was there to support me, and draped his arm around my shoulder.

I heard someone sigh. "The little girl is crying again."

I could feel my cheeks heating up. I hated to cry. I hated looking weak, and that's all tears were. Weakness. Finnick's grip tightened around me. He wasn't holding me back from punching whoever said that. He was holding himself back.

"She does this every time someone dies. If she doesn't shut up soon, I'll shut her up myself." The same voice threatened.

I looked at Finnick, hoping he wasn't about to kill anyone. He looked angry. So, so angry.

"Hey Brutus," he called. "This little girl is a victor of the Hunger Games. That means she has the right to cry whenever the frick she wants. It also means she has the ability to make you cry. So I'd watch it buddy."

I looked up to see Brutus approaching us, anger written on his face

Finnick kept on talking. "And you know what else? When she's done beating you to a pulp, I'll finish off whatever's left of you. And I guarantee there will be other victors getting in line, too."

"You little-" Brutus started, his face bright red, his hands clenched in fists by his sides, ready to fight.

"Sit down, old man," Gloss said. Cashmere stood with her brother, ready to come to my defense. "Before I make you. You're outnumbered. Think twice next time before you threaten Katniss."

Brutus looked at all the victors, much younger and stronger than he, glaring at him angrily. I felt myself trying to fight back my smile, to no avail. Brutus sat down.

"Let's go, Katniss," Finnick whispered. He guided me back into the elevator and pressed the number twelve button. I hugged him fiercely.

"Thank you," I said, my face pressed into his shoulder.

"Of course," I could hear the smile in his voice. "I love you,"

"I'm thirteen, Finnick." I said, half-joking. There were absolutely no romantic implications between the two of us. He was sixteen and I was thirteen. Maybe when we're older, it will be okay. But at the time, it would be close to pedophylic.

"I love you and I'm in love with you often have different meanings," he told me.

"I love you, Finnick," I said, smiling at him. I let go of him and looked around. Haymitch was on the elevator with us, sitting in the corner. When he made eye contact, he tipped his flask in my direction. Gloss and Cashmere were there as well. Cashmere was smiling at us, and Gloss looked increasingly uncomfortable. Cecelia from District 8 was there as well, sitting next to Cashmere.

"I love you guys, too," Said Gloss, attempting to make a joke. We all ignored him. Except Cashmere, who smacked the back of his head.

The elevator stopped on my floor. "Cinna," I called as I exited. "Do you know of a good tattoo parlor?"

Cinna looked at the ceiling, thinking hard. "I think the one where I got my eyeliner tattooed has shut down in the past few years."

"Why do you want a tattoo, Katniss?" Finnick asked, looking rather concerned. It was very unlike me, I suppose. I usually tried my hardest to avoid anything remotely Capitol.

"You said that one member of your prep team does tattoos, right?" I asked, completely ignoring his question. "Titania?"

"Yeah, but Katniss-"

I walked right past him, also very unlike me, and into the elevator. I pressed the 'close door' button before the victors could follow me, then selected the District 4 floor. A couple minutes later, the doors opened up.

"Hi, Mags. Have you seen Titania? The woman from Finnick's prep team?"

Mags pointed me in the right direction. I found her in the kitchen, drinking coffee with Adonia, Finnick's rebellious stylist.

"Katniss Everdeen," Adonia said when I entered. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I need a tattoo," I said, looking right at Titania.

Titania looked a little uncomfortable with the idea. "Are you sure? You can't ever remove it."

"If you don't do it, I'll cut it into my own skin," I said.

"If you insist." She opened a box that was sitting in the corner of the room, and removed the stuff she would need. "What do you want?"

"The name Comita, right here." I pointed to my wrist.

Adonia looked at me, pity in her eyes. "That was your tributes' last name wasn't it?"

I nodded yes.

"Good for you," Titania said as she began working. "Remember every single one of them."

Finnick burst through the door, the rest of the victors at his heels. "What do you think you're doing, Katniss?"

"Paying respect to my tributes," I answered, wincing from the pain.

"Katniss, that's a little extreme," He said, sitting next to me.

"No it's not. I refuse to forget them. It was my duty to keep them alive, and I failed." I looked him dead in the eye, daring him to tell me otherwise.

He just sighed. "If this is what you want."

Edited 11/2/21